


Ouroboros

by TheWalkingGrimes



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Basically bridging the gap from 7x16 to 8x08, F/M, Gen, Hopefully by the time I finish this I will be emotionally prepared for the midseason premiere., In the sense that I try to fill in the MASSIVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT HOLE THE SHOW CREATED SMH, Mostly Gen, Romance is very minor, This is sort of a fix-it fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 15:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13010976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingGrimes/pseuds/TheWalkingGrimes
Summary: Carl knows he should have died, that his brains should have splattered all over the grass where he played tag with his sister. But they're not, and he isn't. He survived.Now he just has to figure out why.





	Ouroboros

_"Please."_

_"No."_

_"Please, Dad, Please."_

_"I said no."_

_"...Please?"_

_Annoyed, Rick glanced back in the rearview mirror at his eight year old son. "Carl, do you know what the definition of insanity is?"_

_"No." Carl cocked his head, confused by the question._

_"It's repeating the same action over and over again, but expecting different results."_

_Carl mulled on that for a few seconds. "What does that mean?"_

_"It means stop asking, I told you no."_

* * *

There are three things that happen when you are about to have your head bashed in with a baseball bat in barbed wire.

1.) You become acutely aware of how fragile your skull is.

Skull thickness is something Carl has always been aware of (or at least has been since stabbing people in the head became a more necessary skill than washing the dishes), but he's never really thought about it in the context of his own skull. Now he thinks about how Abraham and Glenn's split open, and even then how long it took them to die. Negan said he'd be quick, do it in one. That's one small comfort at least.

2.) You look back and realize how absolutely shitty your life has been.

Years of running and hiding and fighting and suffering and it's really going to end like this? With his blood pouring onto the grass where he was playing hide and seek with his baby sister only a few days ago. With his father sitting numbly by, waiting for it to end. At least he isn't begging.

3.) You close your eyes and accept it.

Carl can feel the swoosh of air from Negan's backswing - he's really revving up, he wasn't playing around with his "one nice hard swing" comment - and takes a deep breath. He remembers going to an amusement park with his mom, the way she squeezed his hand tight when they were about to go over the crest of the hill.

_"Close your eyes baby."_

He squeezes his eyes shut and clutches his hands into fists on his knees. This is gonna hurt like a bitch, but then it'll be over. The tinniest sense of relief settles over him.

It'll all be over soon.

Then there's a roar and screams and for a fraction of a second, Carl swears he feels the bat collide into his head.

But then it's seconds later and he's still breathing, he can still see, and it doesn't hurt. He looks around, dazed, and sees a fucking  _Tiger_ mauling one of the saviors who'd been guarding over him and Rick. Carl gapes, sure that this is some delirious dream he's having. The bat must have connected and he's dying or dead.

Then Rick is pulling at him, pushing him down and putting his body between Carl and the gunfire. He's saying something but all that Carl can hear is white noise as Rick's mouth moves frantically.

 _Smack_. There's a sting on his cheek and the white noise fades into a dull buzzing.

"...gotta snap out of it, here."

A rifle is thrust into his arms and Carl blinks once, twice. 

Then the world shifts into focus again.

Alexandria is a battleground. Bullets whiz by them and people scream as they're hit. Reinforcements are coming in from all sides: Ezekiel (and now the tiger makes sense), with Carol and Morgan, more soldiers on horseback. The Hilltop. Daryl leading the remaining Alexandrians.

And the Saviors, retreating.

Carl spots his hat on the ground and grabs it, checking into auto-pilot as soon as it's on his head again. He lines up his sights with a Savior's back and fires. One down. Then another. Then another. Then another.

They're running for cover and join Daryl's group. They stop to catch their breath for a second and Rick's hand finds his arm - it's tight, practically cutting off his circulation. Carl looks over at him and Rick cocks his head, a question in his eyes:  _are you okay?_

The answer is definitely  _"fuck no_ _."_

But instead Carl nods.

Then they're running again and there's no time to think anymore. 

* * *

It doesn't hit him until later, when he's finishing up his patrol with Enid and that woman from the Kingdom whose name he doesn't remember. They arrive back in the center of town scout  and the Kingdom woman heads over to report to Ezekiel. Enid gives him a small smile and Carl is about to smile back when it  _hits him_.

Holy fuck he almost died.

Carl missteps, his head pounding as if all the blood that had rushed out of it when he thought he was about to be pulverized had suddenly flooded back in. He almost trips and cracks his head on the pavement. Irony.

Enid is at his side, hovering awkwardly. "You okay?"

Carl waves Enid off, not wanting to see her concerned gaze. He doesn't deserve it. "I'm fine. I guess the adrenaline just wore off."

Enid nods and steps back. It registers suddenly to Carl that she's shaking. 

"Are  _you_  okay?"

Enid shrugs, trying and failing to be nonchalant. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno." Carl looks her up and down. He's not sure why, but it's really obvious to him that she's barely holding it together. "You don't seem okay."

"Seriously, I'm fine. I'm not the one who almost got my head bashed in, so you don't need to worry about me."

She says it lightly, like it's supposed to be a joke, but her voice is quiet and tight. Carl steps closer to her.

"I'm fine."

"You almost weren't." Enid's voice is even quieter now. "I thought we weren't gonna - we were so far away, I was scared we weren't gonna make it."

Carl tentatively pulls her into a hug. He's unsure about it at first. Enid is not a hugger, he'd only ever seen her hug Ron - and those always looked painfully awkward. And at first he thinks he made a mistake, because Enid stiffens against him. Before he can pull away though, she suddenly wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face into his shoulder. 

He squeezes her back, a little alarmed at how tiny she feels in his arms. When they first met they were practically the same size. Now he's almost a full head taller than her. 

"Don't do that again." Enid mumbles into his shoulder, and Carl can't help it. He huffs out a disbelieving laugh. 

"It wasn't on purpose."

"I'm serious." Enid pulls back, looking up at him. "You can't die on me. That's officially against the rules."

Carl cocks his head at her. "The rules?"

"Of  _this_." Enid jabs him in the chest. "You can't date me if you're going to die."

In spite of himself, Carl felt his mouth curling into a smile. "I didn't know we were dating." The word sounded a little ridiculous:  _dating_. In another life he might be agonizing over inviting Enid to a school dance. Instead, the closest they'd come to a 'date' was when he'd helped Enid to make it to the Hilltop and ran over a walker with a car for her. Apparently that counted for romance these days.

Enid turned red and scowled at him. "Well I guess we're not if you're going to be a jerk about it-"

He cut her off with a kiss - a move he'd seen in movies but never attempted in real life. Their noses bumped and their teeth smashed together briefly. The discomfort was only momentary and easily forgotten once Enid wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

The pounding in his head finally stopped and he felt almost peaceful when they broke apart. Enid looked more vulnerable than he'd ever seen her - Carl was startled to realize she was crying. 

"Promise me you'll at least  _try_ not to die."

"I promise." He kisses her forehead, and they part ways in separate directions, her to consult with Maggie, him to the infirmary to check on Michonne. 

As Carl walks, he thinks back on that moment,  reliving everything he'd felt, everything he'd thought during those three seconds where he'd been definitely about to die. 

Sick guilt settles onto his stomach. He hadn't thought about his dad. Nor Michonne, nor Enid. Not even  _Judith_. All he'd thought about was how much his life had sucked and that he would get to see his mom soon.

He'd been  _relieved_.

 


End file.
